


Incoherent

by Lionfeet



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom!Hannibal, Community: hannibalkink, Established Relationship, I am so sorry, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, This is not real therapy this is just porn, Top!Will, the internet is for porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 14:29:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lionfeet/pseuds/Lionfeet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Done as a prompt fill on Hannibalkink</p><p>"Will fucks Hannibal into the mattress until the good doctor loses his grasp on the English language.</p><p>Fully con please and thanks, and no heavy bdsm, preferably none at all."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incoherent

_I’ll buy some flowers for Alana as a thank you…_

It had been her idea, after all. Well, sort of. Basically. At the root. Alana had suggested Will try changing his habits in order to regain a sense of control. Not fall into routine and get lost going through the motion. Granted, it had been Hannibal who had suggested- once they were alone again- that perhaps they could incorporate it into their sex life; kill two birds, as it were. At the time, Will wasn’t entirely sure if Hannibal had meant it or if he was joking, he said practically everything in that same mild tone like he was discussing the weather.

Will had pursued the topic of implementing it into sex, however, and Hannibal had quietly offered increasingly kinkier suggestions like he was reading off a menu. Will had cut off his apparently never-ending list of potential activities by sarcastically offering “How about I top for once?”. Apparently, that was the last thing the good doctor had expected.  
And the last thing Will had expected was for him to agree to it.

Hannibal, being the insufferable better-than-thou he was at times, had turned it into a challenge. Well, an _exercise_. He wanted to see how long Will could remain in control and completely focused, obviously not expecting a lengthy amount of time. That was an hour and a half ago.

The older man groaned beneath him, panting wetly into the silk sheets as Will moved into and against him, feeling more in control than he had in some while.

And Will may have been exhausted, may have been sore from the exertion of slowly and firmly fucking into his therapist for over an hour and delaying his own release out of spite; but it was worth it. Hannibal’s composure had cracked at the forty-five minute mark, his controlled movements and vocalizations slipping more every minute until he was clenching long fingers in the sheets and actually _pleading_ for Will to do _something_. 

It was amazing. Sex with Hannibal in control was always incredible, the doctor’s meticulous nature making it efficient as well as passionate. Art. This was something else entirely, but just as intoxicating. Will could _think_ ; he could focus and he could take control and he was doing it now, hands firm and steady on Hannibal's hips. Maybe it was his partner’s constant composure rubbing off on him finally, but he found himself speaking in a near conversational tone to Hannibal, turning his own methods right back on him after a particularly vicious thrust sent the other man slurring dark-sounding might-be-words into the bedclothes. 

“You know, this serves you right. As many times as you’ve sent me back home stiff, having to explain it away as tripping over a dog. As many times as you’ve made it so I can’t even think at all, let alone think straight. I suppose it’s only fair you get a taste of your own medicine once in a while.”

He’d never talked to Hannibal like this, but found in the moment, he didn’t really care. The conversational tone came easily, like he wasn’t staving himself off of release again. Like the man under him wasn’t groaning soft syllables that made no sense and probably weren’t even in the same language family as English. 

Hannibal’s hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, falling in wet strings down into his eyes. His breath came in sharp, shaking pants in time with Will’s thrusts. When Will changed position slightly to lean over the doctor’s back, Hannibal gasped out a mouthful of broken words that he could make no sense of. Definitely not any English Will Graham ever heard. The only sounds that Will could understand now were his own name gasped out on every few exhales. 

It was time to take pity on his poor therapist. Hannibal obviously had had no idea what he was getting himself into, granted Will hadn’t been expecting the control to come so easily either. He changed the angle again, his thrusts becoming faster and harder, making Hannibal’s hoarse voice crack on a word that was most definitely some sort of foreign expletive. He snaked a hand down to Hannibal’s heavy erection, a few firm strokes undoing the doctor completely. The desperate arch of Hannibal’s body against his own combined with the raw sound of Will’s name on his voice was more than enough to have Will’s release following just a few moments later. 

Christ, now that it was over, the entire exercise seemed to catch up to him. Will moved up and off enough to collapse at Hannibal’s side, the other man whining softly at his abrupt withdrawal. After taking a moment to recover, Will acted on instinct, pulling the still-panting Hannibal to him. Hannibal curled against him, his sharp cheekbone resting against his chest in the vicinity of Will’s heart. It was another few moments before the other man recovered, but when he did, he began murmuring tiredly. His tone of voice was close to his usual mild therapeutic rasp, only colored with exhaustion. Will raised his eyebrows at the tumble of incoherent words, at once fluid and harsh.

“Hannibal, I can’t understand you.”

That halted the doctor’s flow of speech and he laid in silent confusion for a moment before slowly speaking again, this time in slightly slurred English.

“My apologies, Will. I will speak to you in the morning, my articulation has suffered much too much to attempt conversation again.”

Will thought he had recovered his control of English fairly admirably, but didn’t argue. He was feeling the burn in his muscles now and Hannibal was already asleep on his chest.


End file.
